


Void, pain, cold, home

by HitTheWall



Series: Ghosty bois [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: An outline for future story hopefully, Gen, Ghosts, Ghosty Bois AU, Referenced deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27677978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HitTheWall/pseuds/HitTheWall
Summary: Ghosty Bois au.A small prompt-like thingie for my sleep deprived brain.
Relationships: None
Series: Ghosty bois [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023973
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	Void, pain, cold, home

**Author's Note:**

> It's awful and is 5 am and no beta (we die like men)
> 
> Hopefully, one day I'll turn this outline into a full story.... One day......

It's been an eternity.

It's been an eternity, no less, just one never-ending limbo for Phil. As long as he could remember, he was floating aimlessly in the wide-spread endless void. It reminded him of an ocean. Calm and black, no tides, no waves, just the depths of the unknown. He couldn't feel his limbs or face, he couldn't see the front edge of his favourite striped hat as he struggled to look higher. He couldn't sense the sleeves of his usual black haori gently brushing his sides. There was only the void and anything outside of it did not exist.

Except for Phil. Phil was still floating, for some reason. Emotionless, bodyless, hollow.

Until he wasn't. 

Phil Watson woke up peacefully, like it was just another normal morning before his job. 

But it wasn't. 

Phil remembered that he died. He also remembered the void. Has he seen heaven? Hell? What was that?

He opened his eyes.

He felt his eyes open. It was so jarring, after an eternity in the void. He felt his body again. He had eyes, two eyes and he could make out the outlines of his hair, falling on his face. His body was back. At least, it seemed so.

He woke up somewhere. A house, apparently. Dark wooden walls reminded Phil of those hunting cabins, where he and his wife used to stay on rare vacations, drinking hot chocolate in front of huge warm fireplaces, cosily relaxing on a sofa after a long day of skiing; the fluffy orange carpet was almost identical to the one his grandpa had in his antique shop, however, this one was a lot more clean and fluffy; multiple cabinets and stands full of hangers with different clothes, ranging from actually tasteful to outright ridiculous, told him just what he needed to know about the room. It was a storage.

He blinked again. It felt really weird. He wasn't in the void anymore. He was sitting on the floor. And in front of them, dangling from yet another hanger, were his favourite striped hat and haori.

The ones he left at home the day his plane crashed.

\--------

First thing Technoblade felt was the pain.

His heart seemed to be desperate to escape his ribcage, angry and panicked, beating like a caged bird, each stroke more prominent than the other.

Techno felt for his sword. It was gone. It was gone and he was in pain. He could not protect himself without his sword, he could not make the pain go away without his trusty weapon.

He tried opening his eyes.

And they did so. Easily. 

The moment his eyelids parted, the pain has disappeared, leaving the man dumbfounded. 

He was sitting in a small room, dusty and filled to the brim with all sorts of junk, from silverware and paintings to unrecognisable smashed screens, broken glass and rugs. Just what was this room?

Technoblade tried fixing his cravat, giving himself a bit more room for breath. 

With his other hand he felt something familiar. His sword. The one he felt safe with, the one he always carried with himself. The one, he wasn't able to touch since he died by a fever. 

  
\-------

  
It was so cold. So, so cold.

Wilbur couldn't stop shaking. He swore he could hear his bones clatter. 

His limbs didn't move, his breath couldn't make it in. 

It was absolutely and utterly terrifying.

Wilbur opened his eyes with a gasp.

And just like that, the cold has been replaced with nothingness. Wilbur's skin didn't feel like millions of needless were going deeper and deeper into his flesh. Everything seemed... Almost normal.

Except for one thing. His favourite guitar wasn't a comfortable weight on his shoulders.

But where could it go? Wilbur knew it should've been somewhere near. He could feel it, strangely.

His eyes landed on the searched object in the farthest corner of the room. There she was. It was a relief to see her safe and sound. After all, last time Wilbur saw her was when he was stabbed on another train.

\-------

Tommy and Toby stood in front of their new house. It was a big decision, it took them long enough to finally make it and there they were. Standing there. Fearing God knows what.

Two friends looked at each other and giggled, half mischievous, half nervous.

They knew they would be alright by themselves, knew they could make it. That's why they bought the house and moved all their things and filming gear there already.

It was a fresh start, and it filled boys with excitement.

Luggage in their hands, smiling they took their first steps towards their new home.


End file.
